Boyfriend Material
by natodiangelo
Summary: In which Izuki Shun meets Moriyama Yoshitaka on a Friday night, and he decides to wing it.


i just wanted to write izuki doing the 'boyfriend material' thing

((also its like midnight so if theres any mistakes please tell me thank youu))

* * *

It was another rainy Friday night spent chatting with the bartender of his local bar. Izuki didn't actually drink when he went there - he couldn't afford it, not that he even wanted it. He was perfectly content talking casually to the man behind the counter and watching whatever sports game was on the TV.

Well, almost perfectly content.

He came there every Friday evening, and every Friday evening he found someone who looked interesting; boys and girls alike, for looks, for a piece of a witty conversation overheard; if there was any attraction at all, he would go talk to them. And every Friday he was (usually) politely turned down. And every Friday night he would walk back home alone, terribly sober and, unwilling admitted, lonely.

His weekend then was filled with homework, his week spent going between college classes, and then Friday would come again, and that hope would spark and his mind would fill with what-ifs in a way that was horribly embarrassing, even if no one but him knew about it.

It was the same that day. Except, at the same time, it wasn't.

Something was different today, he knew; brief interest in astrology that had taken him years ago was brought to mind, and he wondered if the planets had recently had a major shift - and then pushed it from his mind, reminded of why he had left that particular hobby behind him.

The bartender offered him a drink, which he turned down like always. Izuki followed the declination up with casual small talk, and, as the bartender started on what would inevitably become a monologue, took a glance around the room. Others milled about, conversations a dull murmur against the sound of the TV. A few people sat alone, like Izuki, though they had shot glasses beginning a line in front of them. Izuki moved his eyes along.

There was a guy. There were many guys, in fact, Izuki being one of them, but there was _one guy_ \- this guy stood out, somehow, in Izuki's mind. It was like a red light going off, saying "hey look over there-", and who was Izuki to disobey?

The man wasn't outstandingly tall; a couple inches taller than Izuki, maybe, and Izuki wasn't too tall himself (even if his mother said otherwise.) His hair was neatly combed, styled to the side in a way that looked purposely accidental - _if only his hair was purple,_ thought Izuki, _then it'd be purposely purple_ \- and very attractive.

The man looked over at Izuki, and Izuki quickly looked away, flustered. His mind was moving, however, gears turning, and he waited for the first opportunity to break away from his conversation with the bartender before walking over.

He had a choice to make, of course; to start with a joke, and continue with that, or try for actual conversing, and throw in a joke to bring everything together. His stomach made a sickening flip when the man looked over at him, however, and his final decision was to just wing it.

Izuki arrived at where the man was standing and managed to introduce himself, _without_ stuttering, which he considered a Huge Accomplishment. The man, now Moriyama Yoshitaka, also introduced himself, not because he was just as incredibly taken with Izuki as Izuki was with him, Izuki knew, but because it was the polite thing to do, a common courtesy even if there was no intention to ever talk to that person again. Moriyama didn't look uncomfortable - flustered, maybe, more than likely just wishful thinking on Izuki's part - so Izuki didn't move away. Instead, he let his 'winging it' do the talking.

"I played basketball during high school," he started, and Moriyama Yoshitaka seemed to focus more on what he was saying. "I'm in college now, and I don't play it anymore. I think I probably would have had more luck with baseball." He paused, waited for prompting, which Moriyama gave.

"Why do you think that?" asked Moriyama, and Izuki wondered if it was possible to love a voice so soon after hearing it.

"Well, see, I think I would have been more apt with batting - since I swing both ways." Izuki hadn't even realized what he was saying, really, until it was out of him, and this time he wasn't imagining the flustered look on Moriyama's face. The laugh that came out as well was more than enough consultation, however, for his poor thinking.

"Maybe I would have done better in baseball too, then." He said, and it was the best thing Izuki had heard for a long time. He smiled.

"I liked the jerseys better, too. The fabric especially. It's just softer in baseball. Like - here, feel this." Izuki held out his arm, indicating for Moriyama to feel his sleeve; he did. "You know what kind of material that is?" he asked. Moriyama looked amused. "Boyfriend material." Izuki held his straight face - _straight face_ \- and watched as Moriyama tried, and failed, to do the same, face reddening before he burst into laughter. Izuki allowed himself to laugh after that as well.

"Well, you know what kind of fabric this is?" Moriyama asked after recovering his composure, also holding out his sleeve. Izuki felt it. "It's pretty new, thin, keeps you from getting too warm in summer. Cause, y'know, I'm a pretty cool guy." Izuki, being who he was, knew a joke when he saw one, and the one that Moriyama had just said had to be the _lamest_ joke ever said. It was also, of course, the most endearing joke ever.

Izuki was required to follow up with another lame joke, as states the Lame Joke Rule Book, and Moriyama, also abiding the rules, came up with another. It was already ten by the time Izuki finally looked at the clock - breaking his current record of nine-thirty for being at the bar until late. Moriyama had to excuse himself after realizing the time, but scribbled down his name and number on a napkin and presented it to Izuki before leaving.

Izuki left the bar on a Friday night, for the first time in possession of a person's phone number, a person he'd be sure to call later that night, _just to make sure he got home alright_ \- for the first time, not feeling like it was another Friday wasted. There was a reason Friday was gold, he thought, and smiled his entire way home.

* * *

note: friday in japanese (金曜日) is written with the character for gold (金) hence friday being gold.


End file.
